The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year
by nathan-p
Summary: Jeb remembers a lot of Christmases. This one is the awesomest. Jeb/Roland. AU.


Jeb has a lot of Christmas memories.

* * *

Christmas alone, as a college student -- unable to sleep, scanning through the radio looking for something that wasn't a Christmas carol. Val had gone home for the holidays (with her latest boyfriend in tow -- Jeb doubted they'd still be together come Valentine's Day), leaving him here alone.

He settled for a station playing classic rock, and wished himself a sour Merry Christmas.

* * *

Christmas regretful, hungover, and dazed -- Val didn't ask any questions about where he'd been, and somehow that was worse than if she'd accused him of sleeping with Doctor ter Borcht.

He didn't bother to leave his apartment for a while -- he stayed in, watched the paint flake off the walls, and tried to keep his mind from racing.

* * *

Christmas restless, at home with Connie -- he had so many interesting ideas for Subject Eleven, but Connie had made him leave all his notes at the lab for the holiday. Not that he resented that -- oh, he loved her so.

It was just so hard, sometimes, to keep his mind from wandering. When you're a mad scientist, your work _always_ comes home with you.

* * *

Christmas hectic with the flock -- Jeb had had a hard time raising one child, let alone six. But the birdkids, for all that they were difficult to deal with, were forgiving -- and keeping up with them cut through the medicated fug that wrapped his brain in cotton.

For the first time since before he met Connie, Jeb felt alive.

* * *

Christmas tentative and sweet -- not Jeb's first with Roland, but it was quiet and lovely nonetheless. Things were still a little rough and strange between them, but Jeb was a firm believer in the thought that things could change.

It had taken him long enough, but he thought he might've found something new in Roland -- someone he wanted to spend Christmas with, someone he _could_ spend Christmas with without a thought of work crossing his mind.

* * *

But none of those Christmases mean more to him than this one.

Ari seems to be having fun, for one thing. This might be his last Christmas, Jeb knows -- Ari's only ten, but that's old for an Eraser, and he may not make it another year. He's curled up in his favorite chair, slowly working his way through an adventure novel. He'll never be a very fast reader -- more and more often, he complains that his vision's fuzzy or his head hurts.

It means a lot to Jeb to have this Christmas with his son, no matter how sullen Ari sometimes is, no matter how badly damaged their relationship is. Having him here is enough in itself.

And he does wish Max could be here, but Jeb knows his limits -- Max is happier far, far away from him. The most he knows of how she's spending Christmas, she likes to spend her holidays at Val's house, with the whole flock together.

He hopes that she's happy there, with her family.

Certainly, Jeb is happy here with his.

Elsa is reading, too -- a worn, tatty old book that was Roland's when he was young. (He'd said that he'd always wanted to pass that book on to a child of his someday, and now he'd gotten the chance.) She never fails to amaze her fathers, and they can't quite agree what it is that makes her remarkable to them -- maybe that she's theirs.

Elizabeth is half of each of them, and the older she gets, the more of someone entirely different they see in her. She comes from them, but she's her own person as well.

It isn't much, what he and Roland have built here -- but it's their family. The four of them, despite how tenuous their blood ties are, are _family_, in the ways that count the most to them.

The doorbell rings, and Jeb makes his way to the door to answer it.

When he opens it it's Reilly, grinning and looking much the same as always.

"Hey, Jeb," he says, getting the first word in. "Can I come in?"

"No," Jeb says, grinning, and steps aside to let him through. "Nice to see you again."

"I had to drop by." He takes his shoes off and leaves them by the door. "Come see the kids and all."

"That's nice of you. How long can you stay?" He didn't _say_ anything about coming to visit -- and then again, this is Reilly. He's not exactly well-known for planning ahead.

"Oh, not very long -- I have someone waiting on me tonight." He smiles. "Merry Christmas, though."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Reilly," Jeb tells him.

"God bless us, every one," Ari mutters darkly -- must've been listening to their conversation -- and Jeb can't help but laugh.

Jeb has a lot of Christmas memories, true -- but this one, he knows, is going to be his favorite.

* * *

Note: Merry Christmas to you too, gentle reader -- now go spend some time with your family, dammit!


End file.
